I strutted—okay fine, stumbled—into the ginormous Jeon mansion behind Mr. Jeon like a lost intern on her first day of work.
This was my third time here (don't ask about the first two—long story involving a Doberman and my will to survive), but it was the first time I entered without being attacked by either the hellhound a.k.a Bam or Grandpa Jeon, who might actually be a hellhound disguised as an old man.
"Woah," I whispered, spinning my head like a malfunctioning owl.
The place looked… expensive. Not just regular-expensive, but I-wouldn't-survive-a-day-here-expensive. It had that vibe where if you even breathed near the walls, your debt would automatically increase by 10 million won.
The walls were decorated with enormous paintings that looked like they were stolen straight from… what's it called again? The famous French museum?
Oh yeah, the Louverie.
